Flesh & Blood
by Ms. Avi
Summary: Severus Snape isn't just any halfblood. He is the HalfBlood Prince. WIP. Eventual SnapeOCFW.
1. Prologue

Prologue

A slight young woman sat stiffly on the edge of a high-backed leather armchair. She watched with unseeing eyes as a small, dark-haired boy arranged and rearranged a queue of books along the floor. When sharp footsteps echoed into the room from the hall, the woman stood from the chair and nervously wrung her hands together before forcing them down to her sides, hands balling into fists. A tall man with greying hair and a large hooked nose entered the room, his expression sour and forbidding. His dark eyes passed over the woman, rested on the boy and then snapped back to the woman when she spoke timidly.

"Hello, Father."

"How old is he?" the man asked brusquely.

"He'll be three years old on the 9th of January."

"So," the man said quietly. "You've been hiding this for over three years. And yet here you are, come to beg for help."

"Mother told me—" the woman began.

"Your mother is dead," the man snapped. "Whatever promises she might've made or offers she extended to you died with her."

The boy had abandoned his books and was watching the two adults with a blank expression on his little face. The woman pressed her thin lips together as though she was trying to stop something from escaping her mouth. Her eyes welled with tears as she stared at the man in silence for several long moments.

"Father, please," she said, her voice quavering dangerously. "I have nowhere else to go."

"Where is the father?" the man asked coldly.

"He's dead." The words sounded hollow.

"And his family wouldn't take you?"

The woman hesitated.

"Your mother told me about the wedding announcement in the Prophet, so at the very least I know you haven't sunk so low as to have spawned a bastard. You have legal claim to his estate. And since you are here, that must mean he was penniless." The man scoffed derisively. Then, as if struck by a sudden and vile thought, his eyes narrowed and he glared at her menacingly.

"Was he a Mudblood?"

The woman flinched. When she opened her eyes again, they were lowered to the floor and quickly filling with dread and panic. The boy's tiny voice split the air like the slash of a sword.

"Mama?"

"I asked you a question," the man hissed, ignoring the boy. "Was the father a Mudblood?"

"No," the woman whispered. "He was a Muggle."

For a moment, all of the air in the room seemed to disappear. The little boy, his dark eyes now wide with fear, began to back away from the adults into a corner. The woman's hands were trembling even though she still kept them clenched tightly into fists. The man's expression had changed abruptly from suspicion to complete and utter fury.

"What!" he spat through white lips. "WHAT!"

The woman cowered away from him, her entire body now shivering violently. The boy had begun to cry in the corner, trying to wedge himself between the wall and a wooden step-stool.

"YOU DARE!" The man seemed beyond reason. "YOU DARE COME HERE AND ASK ME FOR ANYTHING AFTER YOU HAVE SO BEFOULED—"

"But Mother told you about the wedding announcement!" the woman gasped in terrified desperation.

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" the man screamed. He seethed through clenched teeth, his eyes wide and almost wild with rage. He did not appear to even register the boy's cries, and the woman seemed too paralyzed with fright to move.

"Your mother knew," the man finally growled in an ominous undertone. "She knew what I would have done if I had learned the whole truth. I shan't speak ill of the dead. But you will pay for both her deception and your crimes against this family."

He approached the woman, and she bunched her shoulders, her head dipping down slightly as though she was anticipating a blow to the face. The man came to stand before her, looking down his large nose at her with an icy, contemptuous glare.

"You will leave the boy here and get out of my house. You will never show your face here again. I don't care where you go or how you survive, for no shame to which you lower yourself now could possibly be greater than the one you have already embraced. The boy will be raised with a proper understanding of the world and our place in it. After he has come of age, it will be his responsibility to undo some of the dishonor you have brought to the name of Prince."

The woman let out a piteous sob and bit down hard on her lower lip. Her eyes flickered over to the boy, still crying and huddling behind the step-stool.

"Please…" she moaned, barely audible.

"This is the price you will pay," the man said. A cruel smirk twisted his mouth. "You will reimburse me a grandson for the daughter I've disowned."

The woman's face was contorted in anguish and her hands clutched at her sides, her body quivering in a strange kind of half-convulsion. She looked like a person suffering from a painful form of torture. She took great, gasping breaths in an effort to steady herself, finally raising a tear-streaked face to look up at the man.

"Now get out," he spat harshly.

With another loud sob, the woman turned and walked out of the room, her steps uneven as her legs threatened to give out beneath her. She stopped briefly beneath the frame of the door, and though she did not turn around, her voice was clear and held a shaking note of defiance.

"His name is Severus. Severus Snape."


	2. Chapter 1

-Chapter One-

The sounds of children laughing and chattering happily drifted through an open window and into the manicured garden behind a large brick house. A painfully thin, dark-haired boy named Severus Snape sat on one of the garden benches with his back to the window and his large nose inches from the pages of the book he held close to his face. When a loud chorus of cheers erupted from the window, he scowled heavily and snapped the book shut. He left the bench, tucked the book under one arm and slouched away from the house and further into the garden.

Even as the sounds from the house faded behind him, a new set of voices turned Severus's attention to a large thicket of bushes. The laughs coming from this direction had a far different tone than the ones that came from inside the house. These voices were older, jeering and full of malevolence.

"You'll kill it if you keep that up," drawled a familiar voice.

"That's the point, isn't it?" another voice responded.

Carefully picking his way around the bushes, Severus saw four teenagers crowded together in a little group. One of them, the only girl, was pointing a wand at something on the ground. Severus tried to edge closer for a better look when a twig snapped under his right foot. He froze, but it was too late. All four of the teenagers quickly turned around, the girl raising her wand to point it in his direction. When she saw him, her alarmed expression morphed swiftly into a sneer.

"Snape," she said, her voice dripping with mockery. She didn't lower her wand. "Look, it's the poor little orphan boy. Why aren't you inside with all the other little brats?"

"Florence probably kicked him out," said the owner of the familiar voice; a tall, blonde-haired boy who Severus knew was named Lucius. He was smirking, but his words were amused rather than malicious. "She doesn't like him."

"Your sister always had good taste," said the girl, baring her teeth at Severus.

"She'd better get used to having him around more often," Lucius said casually. "They're starting Hogwarts together in a few weeks and if they both go to Slytherin, they'll be in all the same classes."

"This one, in Slytherin?" the girl screeched incredulously, jabbing her wand in Severus's direction. "Not a chance. He's got all the makings of a Hufflepuff."

The other two teenagers, a pair of boys who looked almost exactly alike but for a few inches in height and width, guffawed heartily at this pronouncement.

"He's a Prince, Bella," said Lucius through a soft chuckle.

"He's _half_ a Prince," the girl corrected him, her dark eyes fixing on Severus as a vicious smile spread over her face, "and half…_something else_."

The four teenagers stared at Severus as though they had asked a question and were expecting him to answer. Severus glared back at them, his expression full of guarded anger.

"I _will_ be in Slytherin," he said quietly. The girl opened her mouth to respond, but Lucius cut her off when a particularly loud cheer rang out from the house.

"Sounds like they brought out the cake. We should go get some before Crabbe and Goyle have at it."

The girl stuffed her wand inside her robes and followed Lucius as he walked away toward the house, a derisive sneer curling her lips when she passed Severus. The other two boys trailed after them, jostling Severus aside far more roughly than was necessary.

Severus watched them over his shoulder until he was certain they'd left and then turned back to the spot on the ground that had held them all so captivated. There on the grass lay a small brown-spotted toad, twitching and flailing as if it were under attack by an invisible predator. Its golden eyes were swiveling around in its head at a dizzying pace and its mouth was stretched to a grotesque width. Severus watched it jerk madly in place for a few moments with an inscrutable expression on his face. Then he lifted his leg and crushed the toad under his shoe.

Later that evening, Severus was still sitting alone in the garden, but he'd given up trying to read his book in the waning sunlight. Instead, he was using a stick to dig patterns into the dirt beneath the shrubs that edged the patio, and casting frequent glances in the direction of the open French doors. Just beyond the doors was a huge pile of parcels with bits of ribbon and wrapping paper strewn about the ornate carpet around them. Most of Severus's glances were focused intently on one of the parcels that had been left open; one that revealed a beautiful mahogany-handled broomstick.

With an abrupt gesture and a firm clench of his jaw, Severus tossed his stick beneath the shrubs and walked swiftly to the French doors. Stepping inside the house, he paused just long enough to lift the broomstick from its packaging, and then he moved back out over the patio and into the garden. He kept walking until he'd reached a small clearing between a cluster of willows, the drooping branches effectively obscuring him from the view of anyone who might happen to look out over the garden from the house.

Severus ran his hands along the smooth handle of the broomstick, his fingers tracing over the gold lettering that spelled the words _Nimbus 1001_ near the top. He brought the tail closer to his face and turned the handle around in his hands to gauge the alignment of the twigs. He was just about to measure its height in relation to his own when a taunting voice suddenly chimed out behind him.

"So go on already."

Severus whipped around to see a girl about his age glaring at him with her arms folded. She was dressed in a white party frock that seemed to glow in the dusky light and her long golden hair was held away from her face by an emerald green velvet ribbon. She would've looked perfectly angelic had it not been for the scornful smirk on her face.

"Go on," she repeated, her smirk broadening. "Try it out."

Severus's hands clenched reflexively around the handle of the broomstick. He watched the girl, who he knew very well as Lucius's younger sister Florence, with a horrible sinking feeling as her smirk deepened into a triumphant expression.

"No, thank you," he whispered, holding the broom out to her.

"If you don't try it out, I'll tell Uncle Quirinus that I caught you trying to steal it."

Severus slowly lowered the broom, his face clouding over.

"I wasn't trying to steal it."

"Want to see which one of us he believes?" she asked in a saccharine, mocking tone.

Gritting his teeth, Severus positioned the broom next to him and tried to straddle it between his legs. The broom made a sudden lurch as he swung a leg over it and the shaft caught him just behind the knee, dragging his leg apart from the other until he had lost his balance and fell backwards, landing hard on his backside. He looked up at Florence, who smiled down at him smugly.

"Hm, you must've done something wrong. Try it again."

"No," he said as he stood, his voice shaking with quiet rage. Florence's eyes narrowed.

"I said, _try it again_. Or you'll be sorry."

This time, the broom allowed him to straddle it properly. But as soon as he tried to lean back into a sitting position, it began to buck wildly beneath him, lifting him up a foot or two before swooping back down and jarring his legs with sharp stabs of pain each time his feet crashed into the ground. Florence had burst out laughing, her folded arms dropping down to hold her stomach as she watched him struggle to stay upright.

Grasping hard on the handle, Severus tried to lean forward and grip the shaft of the broomstick between his knees, hoping to steady it enough to dismount. The broom, seeming to sense his intent, made a violent pitch forward and tossed him into the air. Severus landed face-first in the grass and Florence's laughter reached a raucous pitch. Severus picked himself up from the ground, tears of pain and humiliation burning behind his eyes.

"I couldn't have asked for a better birthday present from you, Severus," she said, wiping away her own tears of mirth.

Severus stood stock-still, fuming in silence. He could feel a warm wetness on his face and guessed that his nose was bleeding. He watched Florence wind down from her hysterics, his fingers twitching as if he was actively suppressing the impulse to wrap them around her slender neck.

"Ah, well, at least I know the charms work," she said, flashing him a wide, predacious grin. "Anti-Mudblood, you see."

"I'm not a Mudblood," Severus growled softly.

"Well, _something_ set it off. Maybe it was your filthy hair. It has a Self-Cleaning Charm on it, too."

Before either one of them could say anything more, a voice from somewhere near the house called Florence's name. Sighing as though she was disappointed, Florence scooped the broom from the ground and looked over at Severus sharply.

"If you ever touch any of my things again, I won't be the only one laughing at you, Severus Snape. Make sure you keep that in mind when we get to Hogwarts."

She turned and walked away, leaving Severus alone in the burgeoning darkness, balling his hands into fists and swallowing furiously against the urge to cry and scream at the same time.


	3. Chapter 2

-Chapter Two-

Severus stood beside a tall white-haired man on the platform next to a brilliant scarlet train engine. He held the handle on the end of a small brown trunk in one hand. The man, Severus's grandfather, scanned the groups of children and parents with the air of someone sizing up the players in a particularly important game. His gaze landed on a circle of adults who were talking to each other and casting their eyes around the platform in much the same way as he was. He jabbed Severus sharply with his elbow.

"There they are. You know the Lestranges already. Crabbe's son will be starting his third year and Goyle's son, his second, today. Avery, Rosier and Wilkes all have sons that'll be starting with you, and one of the Black boys too. Watch out for Rosier, he's likely to try and use you as well as he can, if he's his father's son. And I hear the Blacks have been having problems with their older boy, so best to steer clear of him."

Several of the adults in the circle had noticed Severus's grandfather watching them and offered him a nod of acknowledgement. He returned the nod and then broke his attention from them to glare down at Severus.

"Stick to Lucius and keep your mouth shut. Stay out of trouble. Remember your duty."

And without another word, he walked away toward the other adults. Severus did not pause to watch him. He turned and hefted the trunk into the train, deftly weaving between the clusters of children who were standing in the cramped hallway. He slouched past compartment after compartment with barely a glance inside until he came to one near the end of the train that was empty. Pushing the door open, he pulled his trunk inside, hoisted it up into the luggage rack and sank roughly onto the seat beneath it.

Minutes later, the door opened again and a large black steamer trunk floated halfway into the compartment before it managed to wedge itself in the doorway. There was a shove from the other end and the trunk scraped through the door, landing in the compartment with a loud thud. Following close behind the trunk was Lucius, his wand out. He pointed it at the trunk, muttered, "_Wingardium leviosa_," and the trunk rose from the floor and drifted over to settle beside Severus's in the luggage rack. Lucius looked down at Severus then, and was just about to speak to him when a high, indignant voice rang out behind him.

"I'm not sitting in here with _him_."

Craning her head around her older brother to get a look inside the compartment, Florence had spied Severus sitting next to the window. Lucius let out the breath he'd taken in to speak to Severus with a loud, exasperated sigh.

"Florence—" he began in a monitory tone.

"Fine." She brushed past her brother, gesturing to someone behind her. Two more girls followed her into the compartment. Florence shot Severus a disdainful glare as the three of them sat on the opposite seat, and one of the girls began to speak excitedly.

"They said he constantly fights with his parents. He is always sending owls to people he shouldn't be talking to and they can't figure out how he gets away with it. He must be really sneaky."

"So maybe he _will_ go to Slytherin," said the other girl.

"It takes more than the ability to pull a fast one on your parents to be a Slytherin," said Lucius imperiously. He was still standing in the middle of the compartment, and the reason became clear when he spoke again.

"Well, as much as I'd like to hang around with my baby sister and her friends, I think I'll go find my own."

"Good, you can take _him_ with you," said Florence quickly, superfluously jabbing a finger in Severus's direction. Lucius's eyes rolled heavenward.

"Florence—" he began again.

"_Fine_," Florence repeated hotly. She waited for her brother to close the compartment door behind him and then leaned in toward Severus.

"Right. If we have to be stuck in here with you, this is how it's going to be. You're not going to move. You're not going to speak. You're not even going to look at us, for the entire trip. Until we get to Hogwarts, you're going to pretend that you don't even exist. Not even one glance or _you'll be sorry_."

Without waiting for his response, she turned back to her friends and the three of them struck up their previous conversation as if there had been no interruption. Severus complied with her commands, training a murderous stare on a spot of carpet next to his shoes. He suffered hours of idle gossip, speculation and other topics that might've been interesting had they not been spewing rapidly from the mouths of preadolescent girls. He was almost grateful when Florence finally banished him to the corridor so she and her friends could change into their school robes.

He stood in the narrow corridor, peering through the glass to the windows where the rocky hills and lakes flecked with pink and orange from the setting sun flashed past. Several minutes had passed when his silent musings were suddenly disrupted by a piercing chorus of laughter from one of the compartments in the next car, the last on the train. For a moment, Severus's curiosity battled his good judgment; following the sound of laughter had never served him very well before. His curiosity proved especially stubborn that evening. He slid open the car door, slipped through and tread quietly down the corridor until, craning his neck, he could see partially inside the end compartment.

Another group of girls was chatting animatedly, some of them still wriggling into black robes bearing the Hogwarts crest. Their attentions were focused on a girl with dark red hair and green eyes who was gesturing wildly and obviously telling an amusing story, as evidenced by the expressions on her companions' faces. The red-haired girl's hands worked a kind of pantomime as Severus watched her. She extended an index finger and ran it in circles around an invisible object with an exaggerated shrewd look on her face. Then she raised an invisible cup to her lips and took a large swallow, immediately grasping her throat with both hands and puffing up her cheeks as though she was about to be sick.

The compartment erupted in another fit of laughter, which Severus realized too late had been masking the sound of footsteps that were approaching his position. He looked around in vain for somewhere to slip away. He could hear a boy's voice, loud and assertive, advancing along with the footsteps. Whoever was coming would not be alone. Finding no hiding place, Severus folded his arms, pressed his back against the glass and hoped he would be ignored.

"That'll be her. I reckon she's got to be the prettiest—" the boy was saying when the car door slid open. Severus dared a quick glance at the intruders and saw two unfamiliar boys about his own age staring at him as if he'd interrupted their conversation in some extremely rude fashion.

"Get out," said the boy in the lead. He had fair skin, short dark hair, and brown eyes. The boy next to him had olive skin and black hair just long enough to fall over his pale grey eyes. They regarded Severus with matching expressions of mingled irritation and smugness. Severus disliked them both immediately. He didn't respond, other than to turn his face away from them and fold his arms closer across his chest.

"Oi," said the grey-eyed boy, stepping nearer. Severus's wand hand twitched. "You deaf? Clear off. Now."

"Guess he's not gonna move," said the other when Severus still did not acknowledge them. He heaved a mock sigh. "We'll have to do it for him, then."

"Try it," muttered Severus, eyeing them disdainfully through a thin curtain of hair.

"Uh oh, sounded like a threat to me, mate," said the grey-eyed boy to his friend.

"Not a very smart thing to do, that," said the first boy as he came nearer. "Making enemies on your first day at school."

"Too right," said the grey-eyed boy, coming shoulder-to-shoulder with the other. "We only asked him to leave, and he threatens us. Not very smart at all."

"Poor sot, obviously has no idea who he's threatening," said the first boy, folding his arms in a taunting imitation of Severus's posture. At this, Severus let out a loud, derisive snort. The boy's eyes narrowed.

"Think you know better, eh? What's your name?"

Severus debated with himself whether or not to answer. Finally, he muttered, "Snape."

The boy turned to his grey-eyed friend. "You know a Snape?"

The grey-eyed boy shook his head. "I don't pay attention to my parents' friends. He looks the sort, though. He'd fit right in at home."

Something his grandfather had said sprang to Severus's mind, and he took another look at the grey-eyed boy. His lips pulled into a subtle sneer. "Black," he murmured, barely above a whisper. The grey-eyed boy's expression changed abruptly from a priggish smirk to unmitigated rage. He made to lunge at Severus, but stopped short when he found Severus's wand aimed squarely at his chest. The grey-eyed boy's face contorted in anger and he looked over at his friend, who had drawn his own wand and was pointing it at Severus's head.

"He's definitely one of them, James," the grey-eyed boy growled furiously.

"So we'll sort him out early," said James, feigning a scoff at Severus's wand for all that he was watching it warily. Severus's sneer deepened.

"Sort me out? Go ahead, try it. I've been wanting to try out a few things."

They stood like that for several long moments before the door to the red-haired girl's compartment slid open and a number of heads peeked out into the corridor.

"What's going on?" demanded the red-haired girl.

"Oh, hey. All right?" answered James, watching Severus intently as he slowly lowered his wand. He looked at the girl and arranged his posture into an unconcerned kind of swagger. "I'm James Potter, and this is Sirius Black."

The red-haired girl looked all three boys over, her lovely face tightening in a look of disapproval. "I didn't ask who you are, I asked what you're doing. Why are your wands out?"

"Oh, you know. Some people have such bad manners that they'll draw on you for making a simple request. No matter, we've cleared it up, haven't we?" he asked, training a fierce look on Severus.

Severus had lowered his wand slightly along with James. He returned the glare, the dislike he'd felt before blossoming quickly into all-out loathing. Without another word, he stuffed his wand back inside his robes and moved toward the car door. James didn't spare him another glance, brushing past him as he approached the girls' compartment. But when Severus drew next to Sirius, he heard a low, harsh hiss.

"Better watch your back, slimy prick."

Sirius shoved past him and joined James, who was standing just outside the girls' compartment. Severus continued on to the car door, thrust it open, and head through to the next car without a backward glance. He paced the corridors for the rest of the trip, his hand clenched tightly around his concealed wand and his ears on alert for the sound of approaching footsteps.

**A/N**: Many thanks to everyone who continues to stick around for this story. 'Tis a pretty busy time for me, and the writing is going very slowly. There's more to come, albeit at a snail's pace. Thanks also for the reviews! I find them inspiring. (hint, hint)


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